


Release

by cazflibs



Series: The Ace Chronicles: Slash! [6]
Category: Red Dwarf
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-21
Updated: 2017-02-21
Packaged: 2018-09-26 03:43:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9860909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cazflibs/pseuds/cazflibs
Summary: After a few years away as Ace, Rimmer has finally returned to be reunited with Lister. But he quickly realises that there's an undeniable itch that requited love or even an amarously adventurous sex life can't scratch.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Bizarrely, this fic idea suddenly popped into my head this evening, and I managed to write it in a little over two hours.
> 
> A small section of conversation has been replicated from one of my draft chapters of 'Cosmic Castaway' but oh well. It works equally in both fics! 
> 
> No, it's not perfect. But I don't think it's supposed to be. It's just a bit of a release.

At first, the rest and recuperation after the return from his heroic secondment, six weeks earlier, had been hugely welcome.

With no dawn raids or rescues, Rimmer had slept in as long as he liked. With no need to be on a 24 hour, ever-ready watch, he’d allowed himself to let his guard down and drink a bottle and a half of Claret in a single sitting. Especially when it resulted in some rather amusingly adventurous sex before passing out on their now-shared bunk.

But now it felt - _different._

Something had changed. _Something_ had gradually begun to course through hologrammatic veins, pulsing with an ever-increasing urgency each day.

Rimmer began to soothe the itch with an occasional visit to Red Dwarf’s gym; repeating squat thrusts and jumping jacks until the sweat began to pour with a salty vigour; his thighs burning, screaming furiously at him to stop. 

Soon, however, it wasn't enough. He found himself slipping away at the end of uneventful Drive Room shifts to head to the ship’s swimming pool. He'd either trace its lengths for hours at a time, or even use the diving pool to repeatedly fetch discarded bricks from the dark depths. He revelled in fighting his brain’s furious demands to ‘breathe’ versus his projection’s disregard for such mortal matters.

On the nights that he couldn't sleep, the climbing wall in the recreation zone was a soothing practice. Shrugging off the need for a safety harness, he'd scale its heights with an urgent and reckless speed before leaping the 30 feet to the crash mats below. Even landing into a practiced shoulder roll, his projection would pulse with an agonised joy.

He then started to make use of the gym’s sparring bots - basic, faceless contraptions designed to repeat a simple three-move hit combo for BodyCombat classes. With a little simple tinkering, he re-programmed them to perform a random array of movements, setting up three at a time to attack him from all sides. For a blissful few minutes, the adrenaline surged through him like a drug as he fought off their fury; blocking, punching and kicking until the bots were reduced to a smoking, twitching pile of machinery at his boots.

But it wasn't _quite_ reaching that itch.

That evening, after a bottle of wine and a somewhat-amorous bunkmate had been lovingly devoured, Rimmer lay wide awake in their post-coital tangle. His left leg jiggled impatiently.

Checking Lister was asleep, he carefully extracted himself from the naked coil of limbs before dressing and slipping out the door silently.

As if he could still be heard 52 decks apart, Rimmer crept carefully across the Landing Bay until he reached Blue Midget 5. Biting his lip hard, he clambered inside and sat ramrod still in the pilot seat until lean fingers danced with a twitch that couldn't be ignored. Before he knew it, they'd grabbed the dual steering columns and powered his way out of the Landing Bay doors and into the freedom of unchartered deep space.

Rimmer calmed the excited fluttering that pulsed through him at the prospect. _Just ten minutes_ , he told himself. _A quick ‘once around the sector’ before heading back to the ‘Dwarf._

Of course, Blue Midget couldn't hope to reach the speeds that Wildfire had once afforded him. But the thrill of pushing the junk-heap of a transport vehicle beyond its speed safety parameters until the engines squealed in affront was enough to pique his interest. 

The gravitational pull of the local planetoid gently lassoed the ship towards it, as Rimmer arced Blue Midget in a dizzying spin across its slipstream. The distant peaks of the sandstone mountains soon grew in his viewscreen as the red turrets loomed steadily closer and closer.

But rather than easing off the thrusters and pulling back on the steering columns, Rimmer engaged the re-heat, thrusting the columns forwards in a sharp dive towards them. It was a piloting move he'd made hundreds of times; recalling with a grin how he'd often sent Wildfire hurtling towards the local terrain at a dizzying speed before pulling back at the last second to power up and out to safety. But the exhilarating thrill that it promised each time was unmatched.

However, Rimmer was so caught up in the promise of a cheap thrill - chest now pounding with synthetic adrenaline - that he neglected to correctly calculate the reverse-thrust ratio for Blue Midget to achieve a successful climb in time to avoid collision.

Instead, the rock face reared up, fast and ugly; filling his viewscreen until it shattered it entirely, sending everything black and hazy.

******

He must have been offline for a good few hours, although his head still pulsed with an angry static. Rimmer peeled open an experimental eye before both fluttered open.

Still gnawing a nervous, jagged line across his nail, Lister’s thumb slipped from between his lips as his mouth dropped open in shock. 

“Rimmer!’ he spluttered, racing across to join him on the medi-bench. “Thank _god_ , you’re okay!”

Rimmer shrugged off the Scouser’s helping hands as he struggled to sit up. “Of course I'm okay, you stupid gimboid,” he replied, his voice sullen and flat. “My self-repair has dealt with far worse, you know -- ”

Then, Lister’s hands were commissioned for a rather different approach as a studded-gloved fist smacked him square in the mouth. 

"You _arse-hole_ ,” he spat, tears beginning to sting his eyes. “I thought you were - ” Lister swallowed back the word, equal parts relief and anger thundering through his being, wrestling for space on gerbil features.

Jaw circulating experimentally like a masticating cow, hazel eyes slowly tracked back up to meet his. Despite the guilt that now wracked him, the words still slipped out, unchecked. “Hit me again.”

A disbelieving laugh spurted forth. “You what?” Lister challenged, breathless. At Rimmer’s silence, he shook his head. “Do you have any idea what you've just done? First you take a Blue Midget on some boy-racer joy-ride, then you send yourself into a death-dive onto an unscanned planetoid.” Dark eyes narrowed, scanning his features as if some clue lay therein. “What the hell is wrong with you? Do you have a smegging death wish or something?”

Rimmer sighed raggedly. “You wouldn't understand.”

“What wouldn't I understand?”

“Ugh. Don't get me started on _that_ list. I'd never finish.”

“Rimmer,” came the pointed reply, “stop avoiding the question.” Lister’s face retreated, softening under the sheer weight of concern. “You've been so distant recently, man,” he grieved sadly. “You reckon I haven't noticed you slipping out the bunk room before I wake up? Or that you keep sneaking off after our shift, not telling me where or why?”

Rimmer blinked quickly. It were as if the betrayal behind his gaze was the piercing hit of sobriety he needed. 

“I don't _know,_ ” he admitted finally. Rimmer ran agitated fingers through the curls of his hair, as if something were missing. “I wanted - ” His face caved with the sudden onslaught of mourning. “I wanted to _feel_ \- ”

And then, in one comprehending sigh, Lister slipped a hand into his, rubbing his thumb reassuringly until those long lean fingers clung back. 

“Rimmer, man, you can't just shrug Ace off overnight and not think about him again,” he whispered. “He was part of you. He _was_ you.” Lister leant into him close until their temples pressed together. “You're gonna have to let him surface when he needs to. Let him breathe, y’know?”

The hologram’s free hand swiped quickly at his eyes. Eventually he nodded, his movement in their proximity causing Lister to nod in agreement too until the man sniggered. Lister drew back to face him, landing a quick kiss on the end of his nose.

“Give yourself a couple of hours a day to get it out your system, yeah?” Lister probed. “Go work out, go on a ship-wide run or take it out on a punch-bag, not the poor sparring bots.” He arched a knowing eyebrow at Rimmer’s guilty wince. “Just no suicidal piloting, okay?”

Rimmer’s cheeks flushed red in embarrassment. “Thanks for not making me feel like an utter nutcase,” he mumbled.

“What are you talking about, man?” Lister snorted, good-naturedly. “You are a nutcase.” Grinning at the welcome return of Rimmer’s trademark scowl, he threw his arms around his neck. “But you're _my_ nutcase.”

As Rimmer nuzzled gratefully into his stubbly neck, Lister craned back to whisper into his ear. “Now, why don't you show me again that neat little trick you learnt with your tongue?”

Lister gasped with delight as the hologram lifted him effortlessly with an inhuman strength, thrusting him eagerly against the wall. Booted feet happily wrapped around Rimmer’s waist as the man grinned back wickedly.

“Why, certainly,” he growled, voice huskily low. “Glad to be of service.”


End file.
